


A Minor Hiccup

by DailyDaves



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: BDSM, Collars, D/s, Desperation, M/M, Omorashi, Praise Kink, Watersports, Wetting, but it's all resolved by the end, uh there's some internal kink shaming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-04
Packaged: 2018-02-16 02:20:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2252235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DailyDaves/pseuds/DailyDaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They talked about everything. And Gavin didn’t lie. He just didn’t bother with it. But this was different. He’d never brought it up, never even hinted at it. Gavin had always been ashamed of it, never bringing it out into the open and never having any want to, because it was bloody weird and he was weird for being into it, and there wasn’t a single thing that could change that fact. So he never told Geoff, never speaking a word of it, even when Geoff stressed the whole communication thing.</p><p> </p><p>He’d never let anything slip, keeping his mouth shut until, like all shitty things that came out of his mouth, he revealed it completely by accident while drunk.</p><p> </p><p>Gavin likes wetting himself, Geoff finds out, and subsequently finds out how insecure and ashamed Gavin is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Minor Hiccup

**Author's Note:**

> So I wrote this as a gift to invisiblenap on tumblr!! It got kinda big, though and before I knew it, I was focusing more on Gavin's mindset and the story became more about him overcoming his insecurities than anything. Cross-posted on tumblr!

Geoff had this thing for _talking_.

It wasn’t that Gavin didn’t like to talk. No, that wasn’t the case at all, because he definitely did and talking to Geoff was one of his favorite things. He could stay up the entire night talking to him, going from one subject to another, comfortable and happy with him. That wasn’t the type of talking that annoyed Gavin.

It was the fact that Geoff sat him down and made him talk about the things that bothered him, not allowing Gavin to run from his problems. That had been one of the first things they’d established, back when Gavin was terrified of what ‘settling down’ meant and back when he would edge close to Geoff and then immediately back away, scared off by his own insecurities and fears of either getting bored with Geoff or having Geoff get bored of him. Geoff’s solution had been simple—communication. He made it clear from the beginning that without communication, there was no relationship.

That was putting it the harsh way, because Geoff hadn’t actually said it that harshly. He’d more—made it clear that if they communicated and talked and if Gavin didn’t run away at the first sight of seriousness, then it’d work, then _they’d_ work. And begrudgingly and after a lot of work and learning and unlearning what he’d always told himself, it worked.

Gavin slowly learned to talk. He gradually told Geoff about his insecurities and what bothered him and when things started getting serious, Gavin didn’t try to run, instead telling Geoff what bothered him and why. That carried over to other parts of his life, Geoff especially big on communication and making it an absolute _rule_ that during their scenes at home, when Gavin was collared and submissive, that he was to communicate before, during and after, and Gavin eventually learned how to voice his concerns.

And because of that, because of Geoff’s thing for talking and communication and working things out, things were alright. It was the first relationship in a long time that Gavin had felt comfortable in, the first serious one he’d had in _years_ , and he was finally happy in a relationship.

If anything, though, that was more of a reason to keep certain things to himself. Geoff was the person who knew the most about him, the person who’d somehow worked almost all his insecurities and anxieties from him, the person who could probably guess Gavin’s thoughts if he wanted to. But that didn’t change the fact that Gavin still kept things from him. There were things he’d never told Geoff, things he’d never _planned_ to tell Geoff, knowing how it’d turn out if he did.

He could honestly say he’d never wanted to tell Geoff. He’d always hid it from him, giving him half-truths on the nights when Geoff would catch him doing laundry in the middle of the night or when Gavin would suddenly run off to the bathroom in the middle of a movie, lies he always believed and had no reason to _not_ believe.

They talked about everything. And Gavin didn’t lie. He just didn’t bother with it. But this was different. He’d never brought it up, never even hinted at it. Gavin had always been ashamed of it, never bringing it out into the open and never having any want to, because it was bloody _weird_ and he was weird for being into it, and there wasn’t a single thing that could change that fact. So he never told Geoff, never speaking a word of it, even when Geoff stressed the whole communication thing.

He’d never let anything slip, keeping his mouth shut until, like all shitty things that came out of his mouth, he revealed it completely by accident while drunk.

 

It was late, and Gavin was a little more than buzzed. And ‘a little more’ definitely meaning he was fucking _drunk_ _off his ass_.

He was drunk and half-hard and just lazily kissing Geoff’s neck, lying on top of him and in a partial daze. He was drunk enough where nothing mattered but Geoff’s hands on his clothed ass and the way they were pressing up together _so well_ , like they were made to fit together like this.

With Geoff’s body pressed against his own he was squeezing him just right, an arm braced against the small of his back, holding their hips and groins together and only adding pressure to Gavin’s aching bladder.

God, he had to go so bad _it hurt_. But this was the way he liked it, and the way Geoff was holding him shoved him closer to him, pressing down on his lower abdomen and hips. Gavin’s shirt had ridden up enough that he could feel him against his skin, warm and pushing him down, squeezing around his throbbing stomach, and Gavin just reveled in the intensity of the low ache it sent throughout his body.

He wanted Geoff’s hands on him, wanted fingertips brushing over his skin until they pushed with clear intent at his bulging lower stomach and kept at it until Gavin couldn’t take it anymore and wet himself in front of him. It was a fantasy he’d never shared, a fantasy he’d only indulged in during the rare nights he actually slept in his own room and not Geoff’s. It was something that he didn’t let himself think about often, something he thought of as unacceptable and gross. That didn’t matter, though, not now when he was drunk and kissing Geoff’s neck and Geoff’s hands were busy with his ass.

“Mmm, I have to—I have to—” His mouth seemed to have forgotten how to work and he lost his words in slurs against Geoff’s neck as he tried to insist he had to get up. He made no move to actually do so, rubbing his nose against his throat before mouthing at it again.

“You don’t have to go anywhere, Gav. You’re alright here,” Geoff assured him, voice soft as his hands grabbed at Gavin’s jean-covered butt and he rolled his hips up against him, unknowingly squeezing against his bladder.

“I know,” Gavin breathed out, his voice threatening to erupt into a groan. He didn’t want to get up, didn’t want to untangle himself from Geoff. “I know, I know.”

Gavin was straddling Geoff, his legs spread over him, and he responded to another roll of Geoff’s hips by trying to squeeze them closer together, the pressure from his bladder shooting through his entire body, making his dick ache as he pushed right back.

“Good boy,” Geoff praised him, low and sliding a hand between his thighs, feeling him up and getting closer and closer and _fuck_ if his praising didn’t make Gavin feel better than he already was.

He had to go so bad it hurt. He had to piss damn badly, but he wasn’t getting up, nor did he want to.

“Feel good?” Geoff’s fingers were stroking up and down his thighs, his hips starting a rhythm, pushing against Gavin and making the pressure on him almost unbearable, and then pulling away. Gavin could only nod, sucking sloppy kisses onto his neck, falling into a rocking bliss. “Good boy, Gav. Good.”

He couldn’t—

Oh god, it was too much. Too much, too much, too much. He was going to pee himself if he didn’t get off Geoff _now_.

He started to sit up, still straddling him, legs hooked to either side of him, “Geoff—I have to—”

He was met by one last thrust before Geoff stopped, opening his mouth to say something, concern clouding over his eyes, clearly thinking Gavin wanted to stop. In the process, he unintentionally squeezed Gavin’s legs just _slightly_ , just enough to push him over the edge.

“Mmm,” Gavin moaned, humming happily as the first burst came out, hot in his underwear and soaking his hard cock. His hands gripped at Geoff’s shoulders, and Geoff moved his hands up slowly, sliding them up Gavin’s thighs until they rested at the waistband of his tight pants.

It came rushing out of him, then, and he was wetting himself as Geoff watched. A steady stream burst, wetting the remainder of his underwear, coating his cock in piss, and quickly seeping into his jeans. It ran onto his legs, leaking through the sides of his underwear and running down his thighs. It was warm and hot and made the material cling to him and turning the denim dark as it spilled out of him.

His legs were streaked with pee, the material around his thighs as dark as it was around his crotch. It leaked out of him even more, dripping through his jeans and onto Geoff beneath him with the most vulgar hissing noise Gavin could imagine.

He pushed his hips forward without thought, rubbing himself against Geoff as the sticky substance clung to him. His pee ended slowly, the stream dying down until piss dribbled out of the tip and then stopped altogether, leaving Gavin panting and rutting against Geoff,  his heart beating loud in his ears.

“Gavin—Holy shit, Gavin—”

He didn’t listen to Geoff, not stopping, driving himself forward drunkenly and thoughtlessly. He rubbed himself against Geoff, wet fabric still hot, his legs and crotch soaked. His jeans clung to him, material warm and wet around his cock. It slid and squished with each messy push of his hips and the relief he felt from emptying himself just forced his pleasure forward, until Gavin couldn’t take it anymore and his cock was throbbing and sending waves of heat through his body.

He came quickly, thrusting his wet clothed erection against Geoff, and what pushed him over the edge was the realization that he’d just pissed himself in front of him, that Geoff had just seen him so desperate and had watched as Gavin wet himself. He came in his pissy jeans, shuddering and crying out.

And it was only then, in the sobering few moments after orgasm that he realized what he’d done.

“Sorry—” Was all he could say, eyes wide and his voice quiet in the room. He’d gotten off of Geoff and backed away slowly from the bed, glancing towards the door. “Fuck. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry—”

“Gav—”

Gavin didn’t let him finish, running from the room, hearing Geoff yell after him instantly.

“Gavin, don’t run off!”

 

 

For once, Gavin hadn’t listened to him. He locked himself in his room instead, his drunken high going from good to bad in an instant and he wanted nothing more than to tear a couple pillows apart and yell into them and maybe open a bottle of vodka do he could just drown out all his anger in it and not remember any of this in the morning.

Gross, gross, gross.

Gross, so gross. Disgusting. It was one thing to get off on pissing himself. It was another thing to get off while wetting himself on someone else.

He worked his uncomfortable jeans off of himself, throwing his clothes into the shower before stepping in, turning the water on cold and shivering under it until his mind started to clear a little. Sobering only made him feel worse, because when he was sober, things weren’t okay anymore. Nothing was okay. He had common sense when he was sober and it was bloody _shit_.

Gavin could hear the washing machine running when he dried himself off, leaving his dirty clothes in there and not wanting to look at them anymore. Trying not to think about how good half a bottle of vodka sounded to him, he forced himself into bed, listening to the footsteps he heard outside his door with his miles of long limbs curled up on the far edge of his bed.

There were a lot of things Gavin Free didn’t care about, a lot of things he didn’t put effort into because it quickly bored him and because he couldn’t bother with it. He put out an outward front of being uncaring and not bothered by things, and contrary to what people seemed to believe, it wasn’t an untrue front and he wasn’t masking some sort of ‘hidden insecurity’. There were a lot of things he preferred to just not be bothered with, things he didn’t do to prevent himself from becoming annoyed and bored, things he didn’t deal with or particularly care about just because caring about them would take up too much time.

His insecurities weren’t hidden, either, nor had they ever been. He realized they were there, he realized they were bad, and he’d tried a long time ago to attempt to overcome them and now didn’t bother with it at all. Things had slowly gotten better, thanks mostly to Geoff and his insistent, annoying pushing to communicate and talk when he had a problem, and his even more annoying way of helping him fix whatever bad thoughts and anxieties he had, but the fact of the matter was that most of them still remained.

He still didn’t like looking at himself all that much, he still couldn’t get dressed with the lights on, and he still couldn’t talk openly about anything that turned him on that was widely accepted as disgusting. He kept things like that to himself, never putting them out in the open for others to know, not wanting to be told that he was strange and gross, both things he’d known for a long time.

He’d also never talk about being insecure relationship-wise. Geoff knew about it through off-hand comments and Gavin’s way of interacting with him and then occasionally drawing away, which had made way for a lot of things that others would consider odd. Gavin still had his own separate room, his own space, and he slept in it about every other night. Geoff had decided it was off-limits to himself unless Gavin let him in. He never questioned him on the nights Gavin retreated into his own room, never asked for a reason or explanation, knocking if he wanted to talk to him and leaving him alone if he didn’t answer.

Geoff had made way for Gavin in a lot of areas, working with him to make sure he was comfortable and could handle things maturely. He knew running off like that annoyed Geoff, though. Or maybe it didn’t so much as annoy him as make him worried, and he could hear him outside now, his footsteps pacing around the living room, occasionally stopping just outside Gavin’s door before continuing on.

Eventually, he did knock, and when Gavin didn’t say anything, biting his bottom lip and trying to somehow curl further into himself, he spoke, his voice tired and still clearly a little buzzed.

“Gav. Come on, kid. Just talk to me for a minute. Please.”

Nothing. Gavin didn’t say anything. He didn’t hear Geoff move from the door, could hear a sigh wrack him from the other room, and he wondered if Geoff was really _annoyed_ at him this time.

“Alright—I’ll…I’ll be out on the couch if you need me. I’m not going anywhere.”

Moments later, he heard the springs in the old sofa creak, followed by another soft sigh and then he watched the lights from the other room shut off and silently pulled the blanket over his head in response, wanting to block out the rest of the world.

 

 

It’d started a while ago, probably during the time he’d been working long hours as a slow motion cinematographer. That job had required double and even triple overtime, most of which consisted of Gavin sitting, bored and waiting for other people to be ready. There was nothing to do and at the same time, he couldn’t just walk away from where he was supposed to be in case everyone else suddenly happened to be ready to shoot. As a result, Gavin had tried to resist going to the bathroom as long as he could, since he was the head person on the slow motion side of things and the rest of the people on his team could barely run the Phantom.

He’d have to go eventually, but it became some sort of a game to make himself hold it as long as possible. It gave him something to do in the long, long shoots as he watched directors yell at each other and idiot actors mess up the same lines again and again. It kept him awake, making him alert as he squeezed his legs together and tried his hardest to not put any pressure on his aching bladder. It’d quickly become unbearable and he’d run to the bathroom and barely make it to unzipping his jeans and getting his cock out before the bursts would start.

And sometimes he wouldn’t make it. Sometimes he’d get to the single bathroom and find it locked. Sometimes he’d get into the bathroom, lock the door and with his hand still on the door handle, thumb still pushing the lock in, he’d feel himself let go, feel the rush of warmth soak his boxers and leak into his jeans, and he would just lean against the door, sighing in bliss as he wet himself completely.  It was those times he’d think about later, when he was alone in his hotel room. He chalked up the erections those thoughts brought to the fact that he was stressed out and didn’t have time for sex or even jerking off.

But then it’d escalated. It’d escalated a lot. Things had gotten bad at home, his parents constantly fighting with him about everything from the moment he walked in the door to the moment Dan picked him up to drive him to the London airport for his next shoot. So he’d wound up staying with Dan for a while, who’d refused to take Gavin’s offers to pay rent even when he insisted, seeming happy to have Gavin around more.

It was around then that Gavin found more freedom than he’d experienced ever before. Dan was a lot like a puppy—albeit a strong puppy. He didn’t get annoying to have around and he didn’t get angry with Gavin. Rather, Gavin could keep up long conversations with him or sit in silence, the both of them doing their own thing, and it was never awkward or boring. Their stupid conversations always made him laugh and they did something together every night, usually going out to a bar or the movies together. He soon found he liked staying with him, and slowly started exploiting his freedom a little more.

It didn’t immediately result in Gavin’s discovery of the fact that wetting himself turned him on, but it did almost immediately lead to a different discovery.

“I think I like guys,” Gavin had said one night, tossing his controller to the side as Dan gave him an annoyed look for pausing their game without warning. “I’m not gay, though. I still like girls”

“I’m shocked,” Dan told him, his face unchanging. “Unpause the game so I can finish kicking your arse.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not really. Not in a bad way. You got someone you like or something?”

And that had ended with Gavin telling him to piss off and then Dan subsequently kicking his ass in Halo.

Experimenting with his sexuality hadn’t been something he dared to do before. As it turned out, Dan didn’t seem to give a shit about what he did. He was ridiculously supportive, coming up with absurd, long plans to set Gavin up with anyone he expressed attraction to, and it was because of him that Gavin started being open with himself at all.

The next time he had a shoot, it was a two week long one in Germany. The movie it was for was huge, pushing Gavin into quadruple overtime, causing him to be irritated and exhausted at the end of every shoot. He learned that a blockbuster movie meant staying up for three days straight and also meant dealing with a lot of older people who were under him on his team, all of them annoyed at Gavin being young, considering him naïve and doing everything to try to undermine him.

Gavin started doing the same thing he’d done before in an attempt to not leave the Phantom alone for too long. He’d hold his bladder, refusing to let himself go pee, bouncing his legs and crossing them when he eventually had to go so bad that it sent waves of aches through his body.

He started making even closer calls, using holding and desperation to keep him awake and sane in the long nights when everyone just seemed to annoy him. He’d wait, restraining himself and forcing himself to wait until he was so on edge that the only thing he could think about was the relief he’d get once he locked the bathroom door.

During some of the long nights, everyone would doze off, and Gavin would make himself wait even longer, no longer feeding himself excuses, and his breath would hitch and his entire body would shiver as he quietly slid his fingers to just above the waistband of his jeans where he’d press just slightly, tilting his head back against the wall as he felt himself release hot bursts into his jeans, a wet patch growing on his crotch.

Only then would he dash to the bathroom, hating the way his cock was half-hard and despising how he had to jerk off afterwards, thinking of what it’d felt like to be desperate and pissing himself.

It made him feel disgusting, because he hardly ever masturbated due to the fact he didn’t like the noises he made and didn’t like being alone with himself, and when he did, it’d always been while thinking of another person, never something like _this_.

The shoot was horrible. Absolutely bloody _horrible._ Gavin ended up calling Dan every night, panicked and wanting to come home. On the day his footage was ruined because of an underling’s intentional tampering, Gavin was at the Berlin airport, nearly in tears and begging Dan to drive to the London airport to pick him up, not knowing what to do anymore and wanting more than anything else to go home.

Dan had told Gavin over and over again that it’d be okay, that there were only a couple days left, and hadn’t given up when Gavin had threatened that he was buying the ticket. He’d ended up forcing Gavin into a conference call with him and Geoff Ramsey, who’d been another comfort in Gavin’s life. Slowly, they’d calmed him down, convincing him to go back to his hotel room and report the person who’d sabotaged him, no matter how many times Gavin continued to beg Dan to let him come back.

It was after midnight when Gavin finally took a cab back to his hotel room, knowing they’d all have to redo the previous day’s work because of a shitty coworker. He reluctantly reported them to his superior, the man he’d worked with for years and the boss of the slow motion effects company. His boss reassured him that it’d be alright and told Gavin that he’d send one of the people who were on Gavin’s level of expertise to cover for him the next day to make up for the trouble.

He had gone back to his hotel room, the relief hitting him only when he threw himself onto his bed. He stayed like that a long time, checking in every few hours with Dan and Geoff, who were both concerned about him. That night was the first night he’d wet himself without telling himself any excuses, sober and mind still blank from the surge of emotions that had hit him earlier. He was in a period of emotional bliss, his mind exhausted from the panic and anxiety he’d gone through, all solved now.

He didn’t hold it for very long, not even thinking as he pushed a pillow between his legs and buried his face in another. That was all it took, Gavin letting out a long, shaky breath as he pressed his hips down into the pillow and let go.

It was the first time he wasn’t completely desperate, the first time he’d done it without the pain of holding and forcing himself to wait. He closed his eyes into the pillows and blankets he’d buried his face into, warmth slowly spilling out of his cock and spreading, making him shiver and shake. He wrapped his arms around the pillow under him, hugging it closer to himself. It wasn’t long before it leaked out of his jeans, soaking the white sheets and pillow pressed between his legs, everything warm with his own piss and the relief taking the place of the anxiety from earlier.

And when he was done, he was aching and hard, pushing his own fingers into his mouth and biting down as he slipped his other hand into his drenched jeans and slid his hips back and forth against the hot wet fabric.

Afterwards, Gavin called the staff of the hotel for new sheets, not giving any explanation as to why he needed them, showering to clean himself off as soon as he was off the phone, finally able to relax after he laid back down on the clean bed, able to sleep after hours and hours of having his nerves strung out.

The shoot had ended after a couple more days, Gavin exhausted both mentally and physically, only to have another stress added the day he was supposed to fly back to London and meet Dan at the airport.

His mother had called him for the first time in almost a month, telling him it was time to come back home, insisting he had to come back, that he didn’t have a choice in the matter and that it’d been disrespectful to leave in the first place. Gavin had been struck speechless, too shocked to even say a word, and another wave of panic quickly hit him just as he heard over the loudspeakers that his flight was boarding. He hung up on her midsentence and boarded, wanting to rip his own hair out and yell the entire way back to London.

Dan was waiting for him at his gate, just like he always was, immediately taking Gavin’s bags and insisting Gavin tell him everything about the trip, Gavin just waving off his unresponsiveness as being tired from the whole thing.

“Why don’t you just move in here, then?” Was Dan’s only response when Gavin finally coughed up what was really going on. Like that, with such a simple solution that Gavin hadn’t even considered it, his problem was solved.

Living with him wasn’t much different than before. Eventually, Gavin was able to force Dan to split the rent with him. They didn’t delegate responsibilities on paper, instead falling into a sort of routine where they both did their equal share of work. Gavin slowly unwound from his tight little cage of bottled up personality, getting more and more open. Dan laid down the work Geoff later expanded upon, urging Gavin to talk about what bothered him, persisting even when Gavin protested and refuse.

Gavin brought a tourist boy home one night about a month after fully moving in, and his mind was half-panicked throughout the entirety of their one-night stand for reasons he didn’t even know, and he couldn’t sleep even afterwards, his heart pounding and his eyes blown wide open. He was scared of being open with himself, terrified of people disproving, afraid of doing something wrong and messing things up for himself.

Dan met him in the kitchen, telling him he’d heard Gavin rustling around and getting frustrated with himself. He eventually worked it out of him, telling him over and over that it was alright and there was nothing to be worried about.

He was able to relax a little, easing up a bit, enough to go back to his room, and it was there that he laid in bed for hours still, listening to the breathing of his companion. The sky was grey with an impending sunrise when he gave up trying to sleep, when he gave up trying to resist his urges, when he tiptoed into the private bathroom and locked the door. All he could remember was the relief he’d felt on that terrible day in Germany and the way wetting himself had made him feel.

He didn’t get off on it this time, standing in the bathtub with his eyes squeezed shut, sighing as he wet his flannel pants, piss running down his thighs and into the tub, making him shake and causing relief to creep up his spine, leaving his skin tingling and his head finally relaxed. It was only then that he silently washed himself off and changed, finally falling asleep beside the stranger he’d had sex with almost as soon as he crawled back into bed.

The next few months were good. He liked living with Dan; it wasn’t stressful at all and he actually looked forward to coming home from shoots. The spare room became his room, and Dan was never anything but fervently supportive, especially as the stress from getting his Visa to go to America increased. He was part of the reason Gavin didn’t have panic attacks every time something went wrong, along with the support he got from Geoff and Burnie.

Having a place he looked forward to coming back to also helped decrease the stress filming caused. He was able to actually relax at home. Dan didn’t care who he brought home, as long as they weren’t messy or loud, so Gavin was free to do whatever he wanted. It was a type of freedom he hadn’t experienced before, one that took him a while to fully get used to.

It was a while before he started holding and wetting at home. At first, it was only when he’d been drinking, late after coming home from a bar with Dan and when he knew his housemate was fast asleep. He usually shoved a pillow between his legs and straddled it, shaking and trembling as he soaked the sheets and himself, getting off on it every time and later feeling ashamed in the aftermath, always worrying about whether or not he’d wake Dan up by doing laundry late at night.

It escalated from there, until Gavin was holding himself back from going pee even when he was sober, waiting until he was on the edge of desperation and pissing in his jeans to run to the bathroom. He didn’t do it often, only when he could get away with it, and not often enough that Dan would notice.

He kept doing it for comfort, too. When things got hard and Gavin couldn’t calm his nerves any other way or when his insomnia his him _really_ hard, he’d retreat to his bathroom and stand in the tub, wetting himself without anyone knowing. It made him release tension, helping him relax and put aside all the stress for a while. He had no idea why it worked, but it did every time, Gavin always feeling relieved and _alright_ when he was done, standing in the bathtub with piss-stained pants and a slight grin on his face.

He felt bad about it. Gavin was ashamed constantly, embarrassed of himself and the way he got off on it and how it made him feel more relaxed. It was gross, disgusting, and he knew it too well, always repulsed at himself afterwards, beating himself up over it and growing increasingly more and more frustrated with himself.

And then, things started to go through for him. His visa was approved and he was greenlit to move to America to work his dream job. He quit the slow motion cinematography company and Dan was constantly making sure Gavin knew he was proud of him, helping him pack up his things and making sure everything was alright for him. Gavin’s family was angry, as he’d expected, but Dan was like an excited puppy and that made up for his family’s unsupportiveness, sort of.

So he moved to Austin, into Geoff Ramsey’s house, who became his boss. Dan helped with the move, he and Geoff hitting it off as good friends instantaneously, and Gavin was finally able to be happy. He was exactly where he’d always wanted to be, and because there wasn’t a thing stopping his happiness anymore, Gavin let himself take in the city’s warmth and allowed the excitement and happiness to run through him and he found that he fit in, that he was right at home.

His relationship with Geoff didn’t start immediately. It was a gradual thing, starting how every other thing started—when they were drunk at home, sitting on the couch, and the next thing Gavin knew, he had his lips against Geoff’s neck and  then Geoff’s lips against his mouth.

Geoff stressed the communication thing from the start of it, not letting Gavin run away the next morning after they’d made out on the couch like teenagers the night before. He’d gotten Gavin to calm down about it, and their relationship had started out slow from there.

It wasn’t long before the collaring started. Geoff was into a lot of things, as Gavin had found out, and Gavin was willing to try things. Geoff went slow, the extent of their scenes mostly just Geoff collaring Gavin and having him be submissive, having him sit at his feet while Geoff pet his hair, calling him a good boy when Gavin did the things he wanted to. Geoff wasn’t too into pain, never hurting Gavin unless he asked for it, quickly discovering Gavin’s need to be praised and going with that instead.

They had rules. The first was the most important one and Geoff repeatedly made sure it was drilled into Gavin’s head—he could change his mind whenever he wanted to and he could safeword out whenever for whatever reason. The second rule was that Gavin was to communicate with him all the time, whether he was collared or not. Geoff didn’t let him bottle things up, making him talk about things when they started to eat away at him.

Gavin was insecure. That much was obvious. He was insecure about a lot of things, his relationship with Geoff being a big thing he felt anxious about. He was constantly afraid of fucking up, and at first, he’d been afraid of getting close and becoming a bore to him after Geoff had had enough of him. He backed off every few days, trying to stop clinging to Geoff as much as he always had, and Geoff quickly noticed and had Gavin talk to him about it, after a lot of protesting and arguing on his part.

Geoff made a few more rules, then, working around Gavin’s insecurities. From the first few months of their relationship until then, they’d shared a room, and Geoff pinpointed that as part of Gavin’s problem, realizing that he needed time alone as much as Gavin tried to say that wasn’t right. He was given his old bedroom back as a safeplace for himself, which Geoff barred himself from being in unless Gavin invited him. Gavin used it, at first reluctantly, and then quickly fell back into his usual self, trying not to worry about things for the most part and finding that their relationship turned out to be fairly easy.

Geoff was relaxed and easygoing. He liked Gavin’s need for affection and touch and didn’t let him get away with things that had kept him from getting close to people in the past. The relationship didn’t cause him any stress, nor did it constantly make him anxious. It was like second nature to him and for once in his life, Gavin was happy with himself, for the most part.

The collaring was something that helped relax him, taking the control from him and putting it in Geoff’s hands for a while. Because he had another outlet for his frustration, he stopped wetting so much. In the few months before moving to America, when his nerves had been the most strung out they’d ever been, Gavin had wet more than usual, calming himself by standing in the bathtub and letting himself go. Geoff collaring him had a similar effect on him, so he just didn’t need to anymore.

That didn’t mean he stopped completely, though, as much as he wanted to. He still got off to it, still pissed himself on his bed late at night in his own room, when Geoff was asleep and Gavin was alone. Without fail, the shame always hit him when he was cleaning up, washing over him in waves as he showered and started a load of laundry for his sheets. He never said anything about it to Geoff, keeping it a secret just like he always had. Geoff never seemed to have any inkling of it, and that was the way Gavin wanted to keep it.

Until one drunk night that left Gavin alone and feeling like he’d just ruined his entire relationship.

 

 

“Gav.”

Gavin was hungover. Horribly and severely hungover. His head throbbed in beat with Geoff’s knocks at his door, and he felt disgusting, absolutely bloody _disgusting_.

“Gavin. Can I come in?”

“Door’s unlocked,” Gavin groaned, rolling onto his side. He’d gotten up at some point in the night and unlocked the door. It made him uncomfortable to know that the door was locked and he couldn’t stand shutting himself off completely from Geoff, no matter the circumstances, so he’d unlocked it and just kept it shut, going back to bed afterwards. He was feeling the hangover in full effect now and he honestly couldn’t understand how he’d ever been able to get up and walk to the door in the first place.

The knocking stopped, but the noise of Geoff opening the door and stepping in seemed just as loud, making his head pound even more. He shut the door behind him and Gavin buried his head in the blankets, neither wanting to see Geoff or hear what he had to say.

There was no avoiding it, though, because the next thing Gavin knew, Geoff was in bed with him, fitting easily against Gavin’s back, arms wrapped around his waist and forehead pressed against his shoulder. He didn’t say anything at first, just silently laying with him, Gavin counting the breaths he felt against his skin. Part of him wanted Geoff to just fall asleep beside him so they wouldn’t have to talk yet. Another part of him just wanted to get it over with, to hear Geoff scold him and tell him he was all the things Gavin already knew he was.

He waited and waited, fidgeting a bit, suddenly unable to get comfortable, shifting around until Geoff’s arms tightened around him and brought him closer and his chin hooked over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Gavin finally mumbled, ducking his head and trying to push himself under the covers again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

To _what_? There were a lot of things Gavin hadn’t meant to do. He hadn’t meant to hold last night, but in his state of mind, had somehow thought it was alright. He hadn’t meant to get into bed with Geoff while he was desperate and close to letting go. He hadn’t meant to piss himself while he was on top of him, and then he hadn’t meant to get off on it afterwards.

If he’d just stopped there and not gotten off to it, he could’ve claimed it had been an accident. Accidents happened, especially while drunk. Gavin had used that excuse more than once when Geoff caught him awake in the middle of the night washing the sheets he’d wet on. Those times, Geoff hadn’t known any better, hadn’t known that Gavin enjoyed it, that it made him aching and hard. Now he did, and there weren’t any excuses or lies he could make up to make him think different.

Things would’ve been better if he hadn’t fucked everything up and revealed that he was into it. But now he’d ruined it and Geoff knew he was gross and had probably figured out that all those drunken nights he’d wet himself hadn’t been accidents, and there wasn’t a thing more humiliating than having Geoff’s warmth against his back and waiting for him to say something.

“I’m just— _fuck_ Geoffrey, I’m bloody sorry, I’m— Mmm—”

Geoff had his hand over Gavin’s mouth, cutting him off and turning the rest of his apologies and words into muffled gibberish. It was Geoff’s language for ‘shut the hell up’, since saying it usually didn’t quite work. It effectively made him quiet, Geoff’s hand remaining over his mouth even as he fell silent, giving up on trying to talk.

“Gav, I’m not mad,” Geoff’s voice was in his ear and he slowly took his hand away, and Gavin immediately piped up again, unable to keep quiet.

He was turning over before he could process it, body working without input from his mind. He was facing Geoff, the blankets in a tangle between and around them. He forced himself to look up at him, green eyes wide and meeting Geoff’s half-lidded blue ones, his voice higher-pitched than usual and loud to his sensitive ears, “I pissed on you!”

“Gav—”

“No, no, no, no! You’re not okay with this. You _can’t_ be alright with this! Don’t tell me that you are! Don’t be gentle with me or try to tell me it’s okay because it’s _not_! I wet my goddamn jeans on you last night and you can _not_ tell me you don’t care!”

“Gavin,” Geoff’s hand was back on his mouth, forcing him to stop talking. He was half tempted to bite him just so he could yell more at him, but he didn’t, sinking back slowly. “Gavin. Shut. Up. I’m almost as hung over as you are and you’re not making it any better. Just hush. Let me talk.”

Gavin frowned, defeated as Geoff took his hand away from his mouth again.

Geoff had his arms around his waist again a moment later, pulling him back in close to him, resting his head on Gavin’s. He didn’t say anything immediately, and when he did, it was in a low murmur, a near-whisper in Gavin’s ear, “Gavin, if I wasn’t into it I would’ve pushed you off of me. Come on, I’ve told you to stop before. You know what I’m like. I don’t let you get away with shit if I’m not in the mood or if I don’t want to do it.”

No, no, no, there was no way. There was no way in _hell_.

“You were just shocked,” He wanted to pull the blankets back up over himself, to hide underneath them or run away like he had before. Geoff hadn’t pushed him off last night, hadn’t told him to stop, hadn’t shoved him away. He hadn’t done any of that.

“No,” There were hands in his hair, fingers threading through it slowly. “Fuck, Gav, it was _hot_. You should’ve just told me you were into wetting yourself. That would’ve cleared a lot of things up.”

Gavin pulled back and Geoff’s fingers fell from his hair and he pulled and pulled away until Geoff wasn’t holding him or touching him and until he couldn’t feel his warmth against him anymore, “It’s bloody _gross_. I peed on you, Geoff. I wet my pants like a little kid and then I got off on it.”

“It’s not—”

“Come _on_. When I used to be a cameraman—when I’d go away for those long shoots, I’d get hard on making myself desperate. I’d nearly _wet myself_ in front of other people and it would make me all hot and bothered. It’s gross and disgusting and I _know_ you want me to feel better, but it’s not working, Geoff. It’s not working at all.”

He was sitting up by now, his knees pulled up to his chest, hunched over and hugging his legs to himself. He tried to keep his breathing measured and rhythmic, trying to appear steady and calm, despite the fact that he was telling Geoff things he’d sworn up and down to never speak to anyone about, things he didn’t even like to _think_ about.

More of it came out, like once he’d started, he couldn’t stop talking no matter how much he wanted to keep the words from spilling out, “God I used to—I used to bloody—I’d wet myself when I got upset. Not by accident or anything. When I lived with Dan I’d do it. And it made me feel better. It’s stupid. Really damn stupid.”

“Shut up, Gavin. Right now.”

That was all it took, a simple order from Geoff. Gavin shut his mouth, cutting off the rest of his self-meant insults. Geoff was lying on his side, propped up on his elbows, fixing Gavin with a hard stare. He was serious. There were no more comforting tones in his voice or soft looks in his droopy blue eyes, no more loving gazes or relaxed reassurance. Gavin had seen that look too many times to count—Geoff had had enough of his self-deprecating talk and was going to put an end to it, and he wasn’t going to be gentle while he was doing it, either.

So Gavin shut up, knowing what was coming was bad, because Geoff was about as close to pissed off as he was going to get at Gavin. He knew better than to say anything else or to even open his mouth, so he just didn’t, thoughts and worries and memories continuing to swirl around in his head, twisting his thoughts and words and making him expect the absolute worst. He waited for Geoff to say something, still keeping his breathing measured even with his heart beating in his ears.

“We’ve talked about this kind of stuff before,” Geoff started out slow, drawing each word out as if that would make him understand better.

“I know,” Gavin breathed, staring at the bed sheets and his feet and the wall and anything but Geoff. “I know we have.”

They’d talked about fetishes in general. Never this specifically.

“Then you remember what I said. Are you hurting anyone?”

 _Bloody hell, there was more to it than that._ Certain things were gross, even if they didn’t hurt people. Even if they were consensual. Even if they were safe. He’d pissed himself on Geoff, soaked himself and Geoff with pee and then came in his pissy jeans, moaning and shivering into it and making a mess of himself and Geoff.

“No, but—”

“ _Hush_ , Gavin,” Geoff interrupted before he could get anything else out and Gavin didn’t dare try to interject. Geoff’s stare just seemed to grow harder, his blue eyes narrowed and brows furrowed together, the corners of his mouth pressed downwards in disapproval. Gavin immediately looked away again, unable to stand that sort of disappointment in Geoff. “If you’re not hurting anyone and I’m as much into it as you are, what’s the problem?”

“Gross,” Was all Gavin could mutter, leaning forward to rest his chin on his knees and stare at the wall, hugging his legs closer to himself. “It’s gross. And weird. It’s piss; I shouldn’t get off to it and wetting myself shouldn’t make me feel better.”

“Yeah? How’s it any worse than me collaring you? How’s it any different?”

His stomach dropped at the words.

He was always so insecure, even about that, something he knew was alright, something he knew was safe, something he was so used to and happy with.

“Geoffrey,” Gavin warned, more tempted than ever to run away from him. He could do it. It’d be easy. All he had to do was get out of bed or tell Geoff to get out and he _would_ and then Gavin could go back to sleep and hide away forever.

“Ah—No, sorry, Gav. I shouldn’t have said that,” Geoff’s voice was back to that soft, soothing tone, but Gavin still didn’t look at him, pulling away when he felt a hand on his arm, and Geoff didn’t attempt to touch him again. “Gavin, do you want me to go away? I’ll leave right now if you want me to.”

 _Yes._ “No.”

“Are you sure?”

 _No._ “Yeah.”

It was times like these that Gavin really hated himself, when his insecurities and thoughts and emotions were all out on the table for everyone to look at. It made him feel vulnerable and naked, and it made him want to curl up into himself and close off from the rest of the world again. He had thoughts—too many thoughts to process and too many thoughts to even properly think, so they all muddled together and became one big mess of emotion that Gavin tried desperately to turn himself off to.

He couldn’t say what he felt and he couldn’t feel what he meant. There were lots of words and thoughts and emotions and wants and he didn’t know what any of them were or how to make everything happen all at once.

And it was all over something so idiotic, just something Gavin was into that he thought was gross and would turn anyone else off. It was so—so simple, especially when Geoff was telling him it was alright, and yet, nothing could ever be simple with Gavin. Everything had to be complicated and hard and difficult for himself and everyone surrounding him.

He took a deep breath, “Look, I’ve just—Never told anyone. Because it’s weird.”

“Gavin. It’s not like you’re telling the whole world. It’s just me.”

He glanced over at Geoff, raising an eyebrow, frowning in thought.

Geoff just nodded at him, “I’m the only one that’s gonna know. It’s not like everyone else is going to find out. Just because you told me doesn’t mean everyone else knows what you’re into all of the sudden.”

It was just Geoff. That was—he didn’t know _why_ he’d been thinking different, why he’d been under the impression that it was out there in the open now that he’d admitted to it—it was a relief. And if Geoff just knew, and if Geoff was alight with it, maybe it was okay. Maybe.

Maybe. Just maybe. It would still be a secret. It would just be between the two of them. Everything else they did was, too. They didn’t quite air out their sex life for everyone to see. Geoff knew a lot of other things about him that other people didn’t know, granted none of them reached the par of Gavin liking wetting himself, but it was still the same concept.

“You won’t tell anyone?” He asked, feeling like a child again, making Geoff swear to secrecy.

“Not a soul,” Geoff promised him.

“And you’re alright with it?”

“I’m into it, Gav.”

Gavin didn’t respond, humming in acknowledgement.

“Sorry,” Geoff backtracked when Gavin stopped looking at him. “Yeah. I’m fine with it. You’re okay. Last night was okay. Everything’s okay.”

And Gavin didn’t pull away this time when Geoff’s hand brushed against his arm, instead unwinding himself and lacing their fingers together with a fake-pout. Geoff only laughed and pulled Gavin back down until he could tuck his head under Geoff’s chin and fall asleep again in the lull of his breathing.

 

 

It was a couple days before Geoff brought it up again.

It was midweek, a slowish week in the office for once. Gavin had spent the night in Geoff’s bed, and had learned over the course of the couple years they’d been together that there was absolutely _nothing_ he hated more than the sound of Geoff’s alarm. Except for, of course, the fact that Geoff set it to go off a whole hour earlier than he needed to for the sole reason that Gavin never wanted to get out of bed.

It didn’t matter how much he loved his job or how excited he was to film things or how much he wanted to see his coworkers—Gavin Free was too comfortable laying with Geoff pressed up behind him to want to get out of bed. When the alarm went off, loud and deafening and shrill, the only thing Gavin could do was burrow further into Geoff’s arms and quietly beg him to turn it off.

He always did without fail, but he hardly ever let Gavin get back to sleep. This was one of the days he was clearly against it, judging from the way he was silently sucking kisses onto the back of his neck and rubbing his stubbly face against his skin.

“Don’t wanna get up,” He mumbled, words slurring together in a post-awakening grumble.

“You never do,” Geoff whispered against his skin before nuzzling the space just below his ear. He didn’t say anything else, keeping Gavin awake with his lips against his skin and his hands under his shirt, fingers running along his stomach and hipbones.

Gavin was perfectly content with it, thinking it’d end up just like every other morning ended up, usually with him getting frustrated with Geoff’s teasing and climbing on top of him so he could ride him until the extra hour they had was over. Things were headed that way, with Geoff’s little nips at the nape of his neck and his fingers tracing the trail of hair on his stomach. He sunk into it, reveling in the feel of his touches and how it was almost, _almost_ better than being asleep with him.

That all changed the second Geoff leaned over him, Gavin instantly moving onto his back, capturing his lips with his own and pressing the ball of his hand _hard_ against Gavin’s lower stomach.

Gavin changed gears faster than he ever had before, going from having his tongue halfway shoved down Geoff’s throat to pulling away and pushing at his chest.

“—The hell was that?!”

The wood of the floor was cold under his feet and a gust of chill hit him as soon as he realized he’d leapt out of bed, his heart beating so hard in his chest that he’d be surprised if Geoff _couldn’t_ hear it.

He was overreacting. Overreacting, overreacting, overreacting.

“Shit—” He barely heard it, barely registered Geoff talking, his voice panicked and worried and everything in-between and the furthest from the angry yelling Gavin _wanted_ to hear. “Shit—Gav, I’m—Gavin, I didn’t mean to; I wasn’t thinking. Shit—”

He wanted to hear Geoff yell at him, to tell him he was overreacting and just to get over it. He wanted to hear him laugh at him for liking the way Geoff pressing at his bladder had made his cock twitch and at the way he was hard, even now, even after jumping out of bed in panic. It was morning—he had to piss and he had to piss pretty badly and Geoff pressing at him like that had just made it worse, reminding him of the fact that he had to go.

“Gavin, I’m sorry. Shit, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t thinking about where my hand was. I swear I never would’ve done that unless you said it was okay,” Geoff was saying over and over again, his words slowly digging their way into Gavin and bringing him back to reality.

He had to calm down. Panicking like this wasn’t going to do him any good. It’d been an accident; it wasn’t like this was the first time Geoff had unknowingly pressed against his bladder. It was just the first time he’d done it since finding out. All the other times it’d been fine, because Geoff was just touching Gavin and had no idea what he was doing to him. Now he knew and that suddenly changed everything.

“I know,” That was all Gavin could get out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot, fidgety and anxious. “I know you wouldn’t of.”

Geoff’s voice dropped, his own worry working its way out until he was the calm, laid-back person Gavin knew him as, “Come here, Gav.”

He did, his feet moving before he could stop himself, and he sat at the edge of the bed, slumping over as tension slowly flowed out of him. It’d been an accident. Geoff wasn’t trying to humiliate him or laugh at him or anything and he wasn’t trying to force Gavin into anything. An accident, just a misplaced push of his hand. Nothing more. It was alright. Things were okay and there was no reason to be panicking, and when Geoff’s arms wrapped around him and he was tight and safe in his hold, Gavin didn’t pull away, sinking into it as much as he could and thinking about how happy he’d be if he could stay like this forever and if the piss thing would never come up again.

All good things came to an end, though, and Geoff pressed his nose into Gavin’s hair and murmured, “We have to talk about this, kid.”

 

 

There wasn’t a thing worse than being told ‘I need to talk to you’ or any variation of it.

And, not coincidentally, that became Gavin’s most hated phrase. It was the only time he’d ever heard it come from Geoff. Geoff was someone who didn’t say things like that. He was blunt and got straight to the point and he didn’t let anyone get off on _shit_. He didn’t hold back and he didn’t have long, lecturing conversations with people. He _told_ people what he didn’t like about them and demanded they fix it, and Gavin had come to the conclusion that his way of not letting people get away with anything was probably why he’d gotten into so many fights.

Despite that, he was also laid back. Gavin had only seen him really, truly pissed offa couple times and while it wasn’t a pretty sight, that was once or twice in the almost ten years Gavin had known him. He just didn’t back down from a fight or let people off after they did stupid shit. But overall, he was pretty relaxed. Those droopy, constantly sleepy eyes of his fit his personality perfectly. He didn’t have a problem with most things, not really caring what other people did unless it was hurting someone. He didn’t stick labels on himself or other people, nor did he make assumptions or judgments. He was someone Gavin could hold long conversations with, the topic changing from some ridiculous ‘would you rather?’ to something that could be considered a deep conversation about whatever happened to come up.

Geoff was different. There was a reason Gavin hadn’t run at the first sign of their relationship getting serious. There was a solid, clear reason that Gavin hadn’t just moved in with Michael and dropped all non-professional contact with Geoff when he realized it wasn’t just a casual fling. Geoff made him happy. He made him really, really happy. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been happy before—Gavin didn’t require a relationship to be happy. He didn’t rely on someone else to make his life satisfactory. He’d _worked_ for that. He’d worked his bloody ass off for that happiness.

But Geoff took that happiness he had and amplified it until Gavin wasn’t sure how he’d ever gone without it. He was his best friend, the person Gavin could never seem to get tired of, and the person he looked forward to seeing, even if he worked with him and lived with him. It wasn’t that he _needed_ Geoff for his happiness—because relying on someone completely for his happiness was no way to live—he just made it better.

He saw Geoff all day at work and went home with him and lived with him and every day all day he was still just as excited to see him, and Gavin decided after a long, long time of inner debate, that that was probably what love was. That, and the way Geoff gave him all the space he needed and would still be more than willing to accept Gavin into his arms in the ass of the morning even when he’d spent the entire shut off in his own room. It was the little things that reminded Gavin of that, just the little feelings he’d get or the gentle words and touches, and it was those things that reassured Gavin that things were alright, that his feelings were returned and not unrequited.

But that ‘We need to talk’ threw him off. A lot.

It was strange, because Gavin didn’t really bother with how people thought of him, as long as they weren’t close, and the only people Gavin brought close were the ones he knew he could trust. The only people whose words could really strike a nerve were those people.

It was the suspense that got to him. It got to him at work that morning and it got to him on the drive to the office and it got to him when he was going out to lunch with Michael and Lindsay. It got to him every second of the day because there was no way Geoff would forget about it and there was no way he could know exactly what he was going to say. He dreaded long talks at kitchen tables or in family rooms and while he knew that wasn’t Geoff’s style, he’d had experience with that when he’d been living at home and his family was seemingly displeased with him all the time.

So he waited. He waited and waited and waited, failing to hold long conversations with people, distracted as he remembered that Geoff wanted to talk and with trying to guess when he’d pull him aside and what he’d say. It was eating away at him and everyone noticed, asking him what was wrong only to have him brush it off.

He was relieved when he got home and when Geoff immediately went into the kitchen and brought out Gavin’s collar, not even taking the time to put down his bags.

“Come here, Gavin. You’ve been on edge all day.”

He went without protest, without even a word, breathing a quiet sigh of relief and letting Geoff’s fingers brush against his neck as he buckled the collar behind him and ran a comforting hand through his sandy hair. A second later, he clipped the leash onto the front, and that was the moment Gavin stopped and let Geoff take control, allowing him to take care of him and think for him, and he finally let himself relax for what seemed like the first time that day.

It was one of the nights where Gavin completely handed the reigns over to Geoff, as opposed to the nights where he wore the collar but decided to keep his own free will and talked as much as he wanted to. They had words to designate one night from the other, the latter mostly just when Gavin wanted to relax a bit.

He was quiet and did as he was told, sitting at Geoff’s feet while he worked on his laptop and focusing on the way he would reach down and run his fingers through his hair or against his face whenever he wasn’t typing. And like every other night when Gavin let Geoff take complete control, he fell into a relaxed submissive lull, his eyes half-closed and his body still for once, listening to the sound of Geoff typing and the muffled television in the background.

Before he knew it, there was a gentle tug at the back of his collar and Gavin snapped back to reality instantly as Geoff spoke, “You wanna come up here, Gav? I’m all done now. We can talk.”

He didn’t answer, instead replying by settling himself on the couch, laying his head in Geoff’s lap, looking up at him. The rest of the noise had stopped, Geoff having muted the television and put his computer away, instead focusing his attention on Gavin.

“Sorry about making you nervous today,” His fingers were tracing at the edges of his collar. “I didn’t want to, but I didn’t want you to be shocked when we got home and I suddenly brought it up. You use your words now—no more staying quiet. Understand, Gavin?”

It took him a long moment to process, a long moment of silence where Gavin just stared up at Geoff, not quite comprehending what he wanted. Geoff wanted him to talk and think now. He was asking him a question. A simple question. He didn’t have to think too much to know the answer.

“Yeah—” It came out hoarse, his voice a little rough from keeping quiet. He cleared his throat, trying again. “Yeah. Use my words. I can do that.”

He was rewarded with a slight smile, “Yeah. Good boy. And not just when I ask you questions. I want you to talk normally.”

“Mhm,” Gavin hummed his agreement and Geoff seemed pleased enough with it, his fingertips ghosting over his skin just under his collar.

“You’re the most calm like this, so I’m gonna leave you collared. You okay with that? I’ll take it off if you want me to. Even if you don’t want to talk.”

“No, I wanna have it on,” Gavin immediately responded without thinking. He liked having it on; it relaxed him more than normal. Geoff wanted to talk and he wanted Gavin to be calm so they could have a normal conversation. His head was clearer than ever like this, not weighed down by any anxieties or thoughts that nagged at him and made him think of the worst. “I can think better like this.”

“Good, you’re doing good,” Geoff murmured, giving a little tug at Gavin’s collar before he moved on, playing with Gavin’s hair again. “The other night when we were drinking and you wet yourself on me—Gavin, I wasn’t angry. God I was—Shit, I was pretty fucking turned on.”

He paused and Gavin ignored the instinct to apologize, pushing it away and forcing himself to just _listen_. If he wasn’t angry, then there was no reason to apologize. So instead, he tried to go with a logical thought, rather than his usual fighting and self-deprecating protests and apologies.

“Why?” He’d been wondering it ever since the morning Geoff had first mentioned he’d been into it, and he hadn’t really given himself a chance to consider the possibility that he actually _was_ until now.

“I dunno, Gav—” He stopped, sighing and glancing away from Gavin for a moment, his fingers pausing in the middle of twisting locks of Gavin’s hair. “Maybe because it’s you? Maybe because I liked seeing you where you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore? Maybe because watching you let go was really fucking hot? Maybe because I liked feeling you wet yourself on me and I liked watching you do it? It’s everything, probably. It’s not even just because of you; I was into it before the other night, but I never brought it up with you. I don’t really have one solid reason other than just ‘I’m into it’. Piss isn’t that bad, either. Trust me, it isn’t. I don’t honestly think it’s gross or anything. I get why you do, but I don’t.”

That was a lot to take in, but Gavin got the gist of it.

“Sorry I didn’t let you explain earlier.”

He’d been too uncomfortable by the prospect of Geoff telling him he was alright with it when Gavin thought he was just saying it to make him feel better about the whole situation. No—he’d been too uncomfortable about the whole situation, with him accidently wetting himself without ever mentioning anything to Geoff, to even talk about it without feeling embarrassed of himself and what had happened. He hadn’t wanted to hear anything he had to say.

It was alright. Maybe.

That was an even stranger thing to think about, and Gavin knew that if the collar wasn’t fastened around his neck, he never would’ve let himself think anything even _close_ to that.

But it was just Geoff, like he’d said before. It wasn’t like the whole world suddenly knew Gavin Free got off on wetting himself. Geoff was fine—he trusted Geoff more than anyone else—and Geoff apparently didn’t mind. No one else would know. No one was going to insult him about it or humiliate him. If Geoff wasn’t going to, then no one was, because it was between them and them only. So maybe, maybe, maybe it was alright.

Geoff’s hands were carding slow through his hair, sending shivers down Gavin’s spine, “It’s alright. You needed time. You okay?”

He was looking down at him, studying him with a look of concern, searching for any sign of Gavin being upset. He was perfectly fine, though. His head was clear—not too loud and not too quiet. He was calm, not stressed out or nervous and his nerves were strung out everywhere. He was alright.

“Use your words,” Geoff reminded him when Gavin only silently nodded.

“I’m alright,” He repeated the words in his head, the thought circling around and around. “I’m okay, Geoff. Promise. Just thinking.”

“Good boy,” And they stayed like that for a while, Gavin lost in thought and Geoff letting him be, petting him with gentle unstopping hands. Gavin closed his eyes a bit, evening out his breathing as Geoff shifted so Gavin would be more comfortable laying on his lap.

Eventually, Geoff’s fingers brushed through his messy bangs and then dropped to his face, his fingers tracing Gavin’s lips, making Gavin open his eyes slightly and glance up at him, raising a curious eyebrow. It was Geoff’s way of getting him out of his own world and back into reality, and his hand remained there, the pad of his thumb just barely pressing at Gavin’s bottom lip.

“The other day—Ah, if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s fine—you mentioned when you used to film, you’d make yourself desperate? I didn’t want to ask you about it then, but I’m just curious about that. And I’m guessing all those times I found you doing laundry at night weren’t accidents?”

“Mmm, not really,” Gavin didn’t let himself look away from Geoff, not allowing the embarrassment creep up his spine and scare him into not talking. “I was really drunk most of the time, though. I didn’t do it a lot when I was sober. ’Had to have an excuse. And uh—yeah. When I was filming, we’d do triple overtimes and I’d have to stay awake for everything and I didn’t like leaving the Phantom alone. So ah—yeah, that’s why it started. I had trouble making it sometimes and I peed myself on the bathroom floor a couple times. Eventually learned to keep a change of clothes in my bag.”

He waited a moment, anticipating worry and anxiety to crash over him, just like it did every other time and just like it had when he’d talked to Geoff about this before, but nothing came. He went on, continuing to talk. After all, he might as well go all the way if he was going to tell Geoff about it, rather than just stopping halfway through.

“And then—When I moved in with Dan, I did it more,” He breathed, Geoff moving with him as Gavin sat up, letting him climb into his lap and kneel with his legs spread over him, just like he had a few days ago, when he was drunk and desperate. “Got kinda into it, you know? I did it a lot more on shoot ‘cause I liked it. I dunno if you remember, but when I was in Germany for that movie, I had this shit day where someone ruined my footage and you helped convince me to report them and relax and after I hung up, I went back to the hotel and pissed myself on the bed. It helped me relax. Dunno why.”

He had his hands on Geoff’s shoulders, holding onto him without much of a grip. Geoff had returned to tracing Gavin’s lips, his thumb pushing softly at his bottom lip, until Gavin parted them and his tongue flicked out, licking at his fingertip.

“You seem a lot more calm than before, Gav. You still alright?”

Gavin just nodded and Geoff let him this time, not reminding him to use his words or telling him to speak up. All he got was a simple raise of an eyebrow, which Gavin ignored. Geoff didn’t say anything about it, instead taking a deep breath and looking into his eyes when he spoke, “Would you be willing to try it with me? That other night—shit. It was fucking hot. You already know that’s what I think about it. And I’d like to do it again and have you hold until you wet yourself, but god, I’m know you’re embarrassed and insecure about it and maybe I shouldn’t even be suggesting it, but—”

That was when Gavin stopped listening, because that was when the panic hit him. Despite the collar around his neck and Geoff’s words and everything they’d just talked about, the suggestion brought a hurricane of panic crashing over him in waves, until Gavin was drenched in it and had no idea what to do or to say. His hands left Geoff’s shoulders and instead, he tugged at the collar slightly, making sure it was still there, having never felt like this when he was collared and being cared for.

He’d fantasized about it so many times. Alone and drunk he’d imagined Geoff’s hands on him, pressing at his bladder, having him wet himself in front of him, forcing Gavin to hold beforehand. His mind had wandered more than once when he was collared and sitting at Geoff’s feet, wondering what would happen if Geoff ever refused to let him go to the bathroom and made him desperate. Those had all been fantasies, when Gavin was alone in bed with the lights out and his hand in his boxers, fingers wrapped around his cock.

Now that Geoff was suggesting exactly what he’d fantasied about, Gavin had no idea how to react. Part of him wanted to say no, because he had no idea how it’d actually play out. What if Geoff decided it _was_ gross? What if he really _didn’t_ like it? What if Gavin disappointed him or didn’t do what he wanted? It wasn’t worry about Geoff just saying all this shit to reassure Gavin—he knew he was serious about it. He clearly was. He was suggesting they try it out. He couldn’t get much more serious than that. But Gavin’s mind still found a way to worry and he froze up, his brain somehow forgetting how to make words come out of his mouth.

“Gav. Gavin.”

Geoff’s voice had gone from his usual tone, that raspy, vaguely comforting sort of way he spoke to filled with concern, his voice hard and serious. He tugged at the ring on Gavin’s collar, soft the first few times and then harder, pulling harshly at it, forcing Gavin to hunch over and bow his head.

No, no, no, he could do this. This wasn’t the end of the world.

He’d always _wanted_ to do that. If he’d fantasized about it and thought about it a lot—he wanted to. Never, in a hundred million years, had he ever thought he’d hear Geoff actually _ask_ him, though. He should’ve expected it, since everything was going well up to that point and he’d accepted that Geoff was into it. The next logical step would ask if they could do it again. But Gavin’s mind didn’t exactly work in the most logical way. He tended to take what was in front of him and not really anticipate anything else, which caused him to be shocked by _big_ things a lot.

“I’m fine!” He insisted, the words bursting out of him, a little more forcefully than he’d meant. Geoff instantly stopped, moving away as much as he could with Gavin still sat on his lap. Gavin sat up, putting his hands back on Geoff’s shoulders, trying to let him know as much as possible that he was alright. “I’m okay, Geoffrey. Really.”

And Geoff dropped the topic, not demanding an answer out of Gavin, letting him lay on his chest until whatever movie it was he was watching finished.

 

 

Gavin wandered off to his own room when Geoff got up to get ready for bed, leaving the door wide open as he laid in his own bed, waiting for Geoff to come back into the living room to tell him goodnight. He called Geoff into his room as soon as he did, telling him to come sleep with him.

“You alright?” Geoff asked him for what felt like the hundredth time that night, slipping into bed beside Gavin.

“Perfectly fine, Geroffrey,” He assured him, rolling over so they were face to face,  leaning in to lick at Geoff’s lips, tracing over them with his tongue until Geoff opened his mouth and Gavin was wetly kissing at him, picking up what they’d started earlier that morning before he’d pushed Geoff off of him. Geoff pressed against him, groaning as he tried to cup Gavin’s face and bring him closer, just like he always did, Gavin’s fingers curling around his wrist, effectively stopping him.

Geoff pulled away, shooting him a confused look as Gavin pulled his hand down, leaning forward to rest his head against Geoff’s, eyes half-closed. Geoff didn’t protest or fight him, not trying to pull back or away, studying Gavin’s face with a confused look. Gavin brought his hand against his lower stomach, pressing Geoff’s fingers against his skin, where his shirt rode up.

“Mmm,” He hummed, pressing Geoff’s hand against him harder, pushing his fingers against his bladder, making him ache and press his legs closer together. He watched as Geoff’s breathing hitched, felt the way he froze and then flexed his fingers, pressing into Gavin a little more, keeping his hand there even when Gavin relaxed his grip.

“How bad do you have to—” Geoff didn’t finish the sentence, and Gavin let him process whatever it was that he was thinking. Instead, he focused on the way Geoff’s thumb was rubbing little circles into his skin, putting just enough pressure onto him that Gavin could feel it, but it wasn’t enough to get him anywhere close to wetting. “—You didn’t ask to go at all when you had your collar on. Gav, do you—?”

He didn’t finish that sentence, either, but Gavin didn’t need much to figure out what he was asking. Earlier had taken him by surprise. He should’ve, but he’d never expected Geoff to ask, never expected he’d hear those words out of his mouth and never thought he would’ve _ever_ had to actually consider that Geoff maybe wanted to see Gavin piss himself again. But he had, and that was that, and Gavin had had more than enough time to think about it and somehow, some way, he’d arrived at an answer after hours of worry and thinking and trying to understand Geoff and what he wanted.

“Yeah.”

It was as simple as that. He wanted this. He’d always wanted this. He just hadn’t ever been able to ask for it.

Geoff’s hand pressed against him harder, his fingers spread on his lower stomach, and all Gavin could do was hiss through his teeth and bite his bottom lip.

“Wait,” And then he was talking before his mind could process the words and he was breathless and his dick was straining against his boxers and he could feel Geoff fully hard against his thigh. “Maybe not all the way tonight. Um—Slow. Slow’s good. Maybe you can just, ah—hold me like this while you fuck me?”

He heard Geoff’s sharp breath, his response immediate, “Yeah, I can do that, Gav.”

That was enough for him and Gavin wiggled out of Geoff’s grasp, Geoff pulling Gavin’s clothes and his own off, discarding them on the floor. He helped Gavin onto his stomach, Gavin wrapping his arms around a pillow to help support himself, not wanting to hold himself up. A hand ran down his back, sending shivers coursing through him, making him shake and tremble with half-anticipation and half-nervousness. He spread his legs, pushing his ass out, already stretched enough from earlier that morning when they’d showered together, and he was rewarded with a few words of praise.

Geoff’s arms were around him, his nose nuzzling Gavin’s shoulder as he pressed against him, slipping into him with a long push of his hips. His lips were on his neck and he was telling Gavin how good he was, murmuring into his ear and his hand found the place it was before, fingers splayed across his skin, pushing against him with each thrust into him.

They fell into a rhythm, Gavin trying to keep his knees from giving out, biting the pillow. Geoff would pull out and then push back in, his hold intentionally squeezing Gavin’s bladder, reminding him of how much he had to go, making him moan and pressing his eyes shut and become pliant and limp under Geoff’s hands.

He supported Gavin even when his legs stopped working, holding him in place as he fucked him, each thrust into him filling him up, Geoff’s pushing hand pressing at his full bladder, making Gavin nearly yell every time he brushed against his prostate. He managed to shove a hand between his thighs, and it was instantly too much stimulation, hitting his orgasm on a particularly fast thrust as Geoff held him tighter than he had before. He trembled, the high hitting him instantly, the pressure around his bladder only intensifying and driving him forward, making his hips snap back to meet Geoff.

He collapsed against the pillow, Geoff moving to just hold him up, hands gripping his hips, driving into him a few more times before gasping out Gavin’s name and coming on his thighs.

Gavin hardly noticed, his arms wrapped tight around the pillow he’d buried his face in, limp and warm and comfortable. He drifted off, somewhere far away, his bed warm and comfortable and everything was _fine_ for once and Geoff was letting him lay there, letting him just lie post-orgasm, drowning in his own high, happy and far, far away. He could feel Geoff cleaning him up, wiping at his thighs with a wet cloth, could hear the sweet words he was whispering to him, could barely process the hand running gently through his hair, everything detached and leaving him in a content daze.

It felt like too soon when Geoff was urging him up and telling him to use the bathroom before falling asleep, assuring him it was alright, and Gavin just did as he was told, and when he laid back down, Geoff held him and brushed kisses against his head until Gavin was lulled into a relaxed sleep.

 

 

Slow was how Gavin liked it. It was how he operated. If things went too fast, he backed out, whether it was intentionally or subconsciously. Slow he could handle. It gave him time to process it and think and decide things for himself, rather than feeling rushed through things. Slow was how things had started out with Geoff and slow was the way Gavin had allowed it to get serious and slow was how they took things so Gavin could handle it like an adult.

And that was how they took this, too. That first night had been different than their usual right-before-bed-sex—it’d been a lot more intense than usual, leaving Gavin a bit winded in the aftermath. Things got busy at work that week, as well, with people going away soon meaning they had to film more. There wasn’t much time for other things, leaving Gavin stressed and strung out most days after days of frantic running around, trying to get to shoots and meetings and everything else.

Finally, the weekend came around and Friday night, Gavin was more relieved than he’d ever been when Geoff put the collar on and he was more than happy to not think or worry for a while. Geoff had him sit between his legs that night, keeping a light conversation up with him about what they were watching and about plans for the next week.

Eventually, the urge to use the bathroom started tugging at him and at first, he didn’t think much of it, glancing back at Geoff and leaning his head against his thigh, Geoff looking down at him, interrupting Gavin before he got the chance to speak, “Stay here, Gavin.”

“I have to—”

“I know,” Geoff had that _smirk_ on his lips, the one that told Gavin he had something planned for him, and that gave Gavin all the hints he needed, his own smile tugging at his face in response. “But you’re gonna stay here with me.”

Gavin could only nod and like nothing happened, they resumed their previous conversation about the next day’s plans, Gavin able to ignore his desperation for the most part. Things went how they normally did for the most part, Gavin sitting between Geoff’s legs, the two of them watching some shitty movie together. Gavin only got up when he was told to, usually when Geoff wanted another drink or when Geoff got up, at which point Gavin would follow him unless he was told not to.

It was one of the nights where Gavin didn’t fall into deep subspace. The nights where that did happen were rare enough, usually only happening when Gavin was beyond stressed out or when he was in a mood to be completely controlled. Those days were the days Gavin would sit on the floor silently, only talking when he was told to or to safeword out, far, far away from himself, until Geoff would call him back and take the collar off, until he was completely calm and happy and ready to be Gavin again. Tonight wasn’t much different from regular nights when Gavin wasn’t collared, just a night where he let Geoff take the reins but still stuck around, letting Geoff take control but still able to think and speak for himself.

Tonight was a little different, though, the difference lying in the fact that when he told Gavin to get him a drink the second time, he had Gavin get one for himself, as well. It wasn’t that he wasn’t allowed alcohol when he was collared—Geoff had always just let him ask first, leaving that decision up to him and making sure Gavin never got anything past a little buzzed. Even now, he waited a moment in case Gavin protested or wanted to safeword out. But Gavin didn’t, smiling a little to himself before getting up and doing as he was told, and it wasn’t long after he’d finished his drink that the urge to pee started to actually bother him.

It wasn’t enough to _hurt_ quite yet, but it was enough that he couldn’t ignore it, and he didn’t, turning towards Geoff, wanting to hear him refuse to let him go, “Geoff, can I go to the bathroom?”

Geoff didn’t even look down at him, “No.”

His refusal was so simple and yet, it sent shivers down Gavin’s spine, making him tremble slightly. He’d thought about it so many times alone, wondering if Geoff would ever tell him no, would ever make him hold until he couldn’t anymore. He hadn’t had any idea what Geoff was planning tonight, nor did he know how far he wanted to take it, but he was oddly alright with it. Geoff was the one telling him no, the person who’d started it in the first place. It was alright.

By the second movie, it _was_ starting to hurt. Geoff had him drinking water, grinning a little more every time he told Gavin to get more, and it was around the third drink that Gavin started to stumble a little when he got up, bracing an arm around his lower stomach, gasping sharply when the need to piss intensified from the motion of standing, half doubling over from the unexpected jolt of pain.

He looked at Geoff from his partially bent over state, breathless and needing to hear it again, “Can I—”

“No.”

So Gavin squeezed his legs together and stopped bracing himself and did what he was told, wincing a bit when he moved, trying to keep his breathing even. He automatically went through the motions, returning to Geoff a few minutes later. He sat back on the floor, now having to cross his legs in front of him, squeezing them together and bouncing his feet.

That glass was the hardest to get down, Geoff watching him closely, eyeing him as Gavin forced his water down, making himself swallow and not cringe. He was already full and desperate, the feeling only getting worse as he drank more. It quickly went from a little ache to the only thing Gavin could think about, forgetting almost completely about the movie on the television, balling his hands into tight fists at his sides and doing everything to distract himself.

“Do I have to drink more?” Gavin asked as soon as he finished the glass of water, feeling the pull at his lower stomach and tightness in his groin.

“Not if you come sit on my lap.”

That didn’t take much thought; Gavin was up in a second, climbing up on Geoff and being careful of his full bladder, Geoff guiding him up. He settled on his lap, Geoff positioning him so Gavin’s back was against his chest. He allowed Gavin to keep his legs pressed tightly together, hooking his chin over Gavin’s shoulder, warm and solid against him and making Gavin sink into him and relax.

Geoff was apparently also no longer paying attention to the television, as Gavin realized when he slid his hand down Gavin’s side, feeling his ribs and stomach through his shirt, until he came to a stop just above the waistband of his jeans, rubbing slow circles on his lower abdomen, just resting his hand there, not even pressing or pushing against him.

“You feel full, babe,” Geoff was breathing onto his neck, and Gavin was biting his bottom lip again, fighting back groans and pleads that threatened to burst from him.

“I really have to go,” Was all he could say, tempted to beg to go to the bathroom just because he wanted to be told no. His fingers found Geoff’s wrist and curled around it, wanting to keep his hand there.

“You can go,” Geoff murmured against him, keeping his other hand at Gavin’s hip, keeping him there. “You’re just not gonna get up.”

That tore a whimper from Gavin. A loud, unprecedented whimper that took even him by surprise. He choked himself back from making more noise. He shut his eyes, trying not to let anymore sounds slip as Geoff’s hand slid lower, rubbing his palm against Gavin’s half-hard cock through his jeans, He pulled back as suddenly as he started, wrapping his arms around Gavin, his hands not anywhere near his groin or his cock, and Gavin sat back and tried to focus on the movie.

The wriggles started soon after and very quickly developed into a rhythm. He was obvious about it, not trying to hide it like he always had before, when he’d hold without anyone knowing. He’d shift his weight from side to side, squirm, and try to grind back against Geoff to ease the pain a bit. Shift, squirm, grind, rinse and repeat, and Geoff wouldn’t do anything, even though Gavin could feel his hard-on through four layers.

The movie was ending and Geoff slipped his hand back against Gavin’s full bladder, a little harder than before, enough to make Gavin jolt, “Shit, Gav, you’re so full. How bad do you gotta go?  Give me a number, babe.”

“Eight,” Gavin hissed, wiggling and squirming and bouncing his legs, doing anything he could to relieve the pressure. “Maybe nine. _God_.” He’d lost all rhythm, squeezing and shifting and crossing and uncrossing his legs, trying to make himself comfortable.

“Can you walk?” Geoff ran a hand down his shoulder and Gavin let out the first pant, not answering, struggling to hold whimpers in. He was chewing at his bottom lip again, little squeaks escaping him. Nothing was helping anymore, and Gavin’s legs were shaking and he was so, so close to just full out _panting,_ swallowing his breaths and gasps.

“Dunno,” He got out, squeaking and pressing his legs closer together, aching all over now. He was close to just fucking it all, so near just panting and grabbing and squeezing himself and holding out as long as he could for Geoff. He had to wait. Just a little longer. Just a little longer—he could show Geoff how long he could hold it. He’d let him see how good he was, let him watch how much he loved to be desperate, loved to hold it until he was leaking and sweating.

Geoff was pulling at him, gently, moving him and Gavin could only squeal in protest and clench his thighs together, unsure what moving would mean, “Come on, Gav. Let’s get you into the kitchen. Maybe moving will help.”

It _wasn’t_ , but Geoff was pulling him up and Gavin was standing, his legs shaking and his knees half-buckling under him, threatening to give out on him and make him collapse to the floor. The pressure was horrid, making every move Gavin made _ache_ and he had to consciously stop himself from pissing his jeans, trying to just hold on a little longer.

“You can go, Gav. Right here.”

He was panting hard and _fuck it_ , fuck it _so so much_ , his hand twitched at his side, but he didn’t have the strength to keep from grabbing himself, and he was squeezing at his hard cock, as if that would make it any better. His whimpers were loud and high-pitched and Geoff was talking to him, his voice low with arousal and his hand finding its way back against Gavin’s abdomen, pressing.

“Good boy, Gavin. You can go now.”

It was too much, too much, too much.

He had just enough willpower left to tear himself from Geoff’s hold and run, holding himself and stopping at the kitchen counters, realizing he’d never make it to the bathroom. It was too far away and he had to go too bad and it hurt, it hurt, it hurt so badly and he loved it so much, loved the feeling of having to go, loved the feeling of calm he got when he stopped, when he just gave up, when he gripped the counter so hard his knuckles turned white. Geoff watched him in the moment of bliss, as Gavin clenched his eyes shut and let out one last whimper that resounded through the entire house.

He was leaking, piss dripping out of him without Gavin’s control anymore, and his jeans showed it, the front of his crotch slightly dark. That was the exact moment Gavin found the strength to undo his jeans in a final act of trying to relieve the pressure of his bladder, getting the button open and the fly halfway pulled down before he wasn’t _just_ dribbling anymore and he gripped the counter behind him, the first burst soaking his underwear.

He didn’t really mean to tilt his head back and moan, nor did he mean to spread his legs just a little wider, but it certainly didn’t hurt.

“Fucking Christ, Gav.”

And then Gavin completely stopped holding it back, pissing himself in front of Geoff in their kitchen, hot wetness soaking him and running down his legs, streaking his denim jeans and leaving dark marks where it’d run. It dripped from his crotch, the dripping turning into a steady stream with the most humiliating hissing noise Gavin could imagine, splashing against the floor and making a puddle by his feet.

He moaned and sighed, seeing no point in holding it back, shivering as if he’d just gone through an orgasm, shaking from head to toe with relief and slowly forcing himself to look back at Geoff as he finished emptying his bladder on himself on the floor. Part of him expected Geoff to be disgusted, to be anything but—aroused. But god, Gavin had never seen Geoff look like that, never with those dark eyes, never with that type of hunger, and it was that look and the hot wetness that clung to him and the relief that filled him, that had him wanting to come right then and there.

“On your knees,” Geoff told him, his voice barely more than a whisper and Gavin didn’t protest, didn’t even think twice about it, dropping to his knees and looking up and Geoff, waiting as the puddle of piss he’d made soaked into the knees of his pants.

Gavin could think of nothing he wanted more than Geoff’s cock in his mouth, and he didn’t have to be told what to do when Geoff unfastened his belt and tugged him forward by the collar, Gavin’s mouth open and inviting and empty. He didn’t waste time with teasing, getting straight to the point, too far gone to care about going slow or getting Geoff worked up, wrapping his lips around his erection and sucking hard.

“God—Look at you,” Gavin closed his eyes when Geoff started talking, doing his best to take in as much as he could, letting Geoff push in and out of his mouth to his liking. “You’re a mess. Fuck, Gav, it’s alright if you wanna get yourself off. You’re so good, babe. You can do it.”

That was all the encouragement Gavin needed, sliding a hand down to grip at his piss-streaked jeans, rutting against his hand, humming around Geoff’s cock. He sucked and lapped at it, unashamed and happily thrusting his hips into his own hand, not bothering to take his jeans off or even slide his hand inside of them, going at it until Geoff pulled at his hair, making Gavin pull back in the process.

“Gav,” He breathed, Gavin’s name on his exhale. “Gav—Wanna see you. Up on the counter.”

Gavin didn’t hesitate, didn’t even waste a second, scrambling to get up on the counter, sitting with his legs spread and the tip of his cock out where his jeans were unbuttoned.  Geoff didn’t either, fitting himself between Gavin’s legs, his hand against Gavin’s pissy wet spot, rocking his hand up and down and letting him thrust into it. Gavin’s fingers found their way into Geoff’s hair, until he was pulling and begging him to let him come, until he was shuddering and seeing white and everything felt _good_ and he was so, so close.

“God, Gav, look at how much of a mess you are,” Geoff had his hips against Gavin’s, thrusting against him, rubbing himself on Gavin’s wet pants. “Covered in piss, got pre-cum all over your lips, look like you’re about to come all over yourself. It’s alright, lovely boy, do it for me.”

That was what pushed Gavin over the edge, and he was trembling all over, coming on his own stomach and his already soaked jeans and Geoff wasn’t far behind, grasping his dick as he came on Gavin, saying his name and praising him.

He didn’t know how long it was until he caught his breath, but the first words out of his mouth when he came down from his high, still sitting on the counter, breathing hard and staring at the ground, were, “Oh no.”

Geoff just kissed the crown of his head in response, but it didn’t settle Gavin.

“Geoff, I peed all over the floor. Oh _no_.”

“Gavin, stop,” Geoff was trying to comfort him, just like he always did. “I wanted you to. It’s alright.”

Gavin could  only shake his head, suddenly uncomfortable and disgusted with himself again, just like he always was, “No, it’s not. I’ll clean it up. I’m sorry—”

He was met with a short tug at the ring on his collar, “Hush. Go get in the shower. I’ll meet you in there.”

 

 

It was a while before Geoff joined him, long enough for Gavin to sulk and beat himself up over… everything, honestly. He’d panicked a little and now he was left feeling like he’d fucked it up, like he’d done something wrong, all because he’d overreacted and listened to those shitty insecurities again. So he sulked and sulked, pulling his wet clothes off of himself and waiting for Geoff, pacing and getting progressively more and more pissed at himself for reacting like that when there’d been nothing bad that’d happened in the first place. He was torn—knowing Geoff had liked it and it’d been alright, but after years and years of telling himself the exact opposite, he had a hard time believing it.

Eventually, he couldn’t take it anymore and got in the shower, turning the water on hot and rinsing himself off in it. Sure enough, the door soon creaked open and he could hear Geoff pulling his clothes off and shuffling around and he didn’t waste time screwing around, slipping in with Gavin and pulling him against him, arms wrapped around his waist, kissing the crown of his head gently.

“Gross,” Gavin fake-pouted, snorting and sighing dramatically as he leaned back against him. They stayed like that for a long moment as the water rushed around them and Gavin relaxed for the first time since panicking. “I’m alright. Better than before. Sorry. I guess I’m just not used to uh—you know, pissing myself actually being okay. I’m used to being embarrassed about it and having to hide it. Habit, I guess.”

“We can work on that,” Geoff was pushing his nose into Gavin’s hair. “You did good tonight.”

“I know,” And he did, because he’d done everything asked of him and even though he was still frustrated with himself, he was happy. Happy they’d done it, happy with the outcome, happy with what had happened in general. He wasn’t as happy with immediately apologizing afterwards, but that was a minor hiccup, something that could be and would be fixed. “Ugh. I feel sticky and gross, though. Let me wash up.”

“No, I wanna keep holding you. I cleaned up and everything; don’t I at least deserve a kiss?”

“We are _naked_ and covered in _piss_ , Geoffrey.”

 

 

“You really did do good.”

“And you’re really annoying,” Gavin frowned and glared up at him from the bed , sleepy and exhausted from earlier, relaxed and laying in Geoff’s bed, spread out on his sheets and waiting on him to stop talking and come to bed. It was the most at ease he’d felt in a long time, even if Geoff was being annoying and purposefully making it so Gavin was exasperated at him. “Come to bed, arse.”

“Shit, what a demanding little fuck you are tonight,” But there was that grin again, spread across Geoff’s face as he finally laid down, curling around Gavin and tangling himself with him, laying his head on Gavin’s chest.

“I know I did good tonight,” Gavin muttered, half to himself and half to assure Geoff that he knew it. He had his arms loosely around Geoff’s shoulders, could easily dip his head into his brown hair if he wanted to. “And ah—thanks.”

He could feel the vibration of Geoff humming against his chest in acknowledgement, “We can work on the other stuff, too. It’s alright.”

“Yeah,” Gavin agreed, rubbing his thumb over Geoff’s shoulder and pulling him a little tighter against him. “It’s alright.”

 


End file.
